


Undercover

by Red_Tigress



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Action, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Gen, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Tigress/pseuds/Red_Tigress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha never breaks cover. Never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’d been in deep cover for six weeks. It hadn’t been hard, infiltrating a Czech rebel group. Not for her, anyway, when she did this sort of thing for a living, _had_ been doing it for a living her whole life. Andreyev had connections to other black market weapons dealers. Natasha was milking those connections for all they were worth. SHIELD knew something big was coming down the pipeline. Something potentially earth-shattering, and all SHIELD knew was that Andreyev could connect them to the men who were running it. He was their only open connection. She had been sent in to find out all that she could and to make sure those connections couldn’t break before she had them wrapped around her fingers.

 

Admittedly, it was slower than she would have liked. It had taken her two weeks to get anywhere near Andreyev, before she was invited to be some low-level muscle on the farm he and his best men were hiding on.  There were plenty of other people with stories about how their fathers or mothers or sons were killed by various governments. It wasn’t hard to fit in, but it was harder to convince him of her loyalty.

 

Her first week, she had had to go on two missions to prove heself. The first had been to infiltrate a Slovenian embassy, and setting up homemade bombs in the basement. She had been able to send warning to the officials in time, making her radio call sound like a security guard who noticed the Andreyev’s disguised vans were off their timetables.

 

The second time, they had set up a bomb in a busy train station.

 

She had gotten word to SHIELD, only to get the message back to maintain her cover under any circumstances. She’d tried, but Natasha hadn’t been able to save 45 people, in order to keep her cover.

 

But it had worked. She had shown her potential and was now that much closer to Andreyev’s inner circle. After that, she was doing grunt jobs, accompanying them on exchanges. Andreyev used the terrorist group as a front. INTERPOL was so busy looking for terrorists, they missed the black market weapons deals he did in their backyards.

 

Natasha saw weapons-grade plutonium pass under her nose, along with biochemicals she knew SHIELD was aching to get their hands on, and even some outdated Stark tech. She had let it slide, only reporting that it was on the market. SHIELD would do what they could to intercept. And she stayed with Andreyev.

 

She was in one of the upstairs rooms with a grungy-looking man named Kadlec. He was building bombs out of household chemicals, while she poured over maps. It was mostly busy-work; they were making a plan for the grunts in the organization. The actual group she was with would go on to bigger things. Kadlec would look over at her occasionally, give a grunt, and then look back at his own munitions. It was obvious he didn’t trust her to find the right routes. Little did he know that she had more experience than she let on.

 

She heard doors slamming downstairs, and raised voices. She looked up, on alert. It was rare for multiple people to come to the farm unannounced; they usually went everywhere as a unit. She tilted her head slightly, listening to the sound of combat boots thumping hollowly along the old wooden floor, pushing aside wisps of memories the sound brought. _“What do you think is going on?”_ she asked Kladvec in Czech.

 

He shrugged, giving another non-committal grunt. She stilled, listening again and hearing the doors slam once more in finality. The voices had moved outside. _“They’re going to the barn,”_ she observed. Kladvec peered at her from under a heavy brow. _“I’m going to see what’s going on.”_

 

_“Keep your nose out of trouble, girl.”_

 

She got up, looking at him once, but he was already focused again on his task. She moved down the stairs and left the house.

 

The night air was chilly as she crossed the dewy grass towards the barn. She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders.  Light seeped through the cracks, making narrow streaks along the grass that she followed. As she approached, three people with assault rifles stood outside. She recognized Skala, the only other woman on the farm. The other two were new, and gave her narrow looks as she approached. She ignored them, turning to Skala. _“What’s going on?”_

 

She shrugged. _“We have a guest. You can go in and see, if you want.”_

 

_“Skala,”_ one of the other men growled.

 

_“You sexist prick, she can do what she likes,”_ Skala snapped back. _“Go on,”_ she urged. Natasha nodded. It hadn’t been difficult to appeal to Skala’s misguided feminism the first few days she had been on the farm. The other woman often rewarded her with giving Natasha information she shouldn’t have.

 

She heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a grunt and the slink of chains. Hay rustled under her feet as she shifted closer. A group of about seven men, only half of whom she recognized, stood around someone hanging from the chains. One laughed gleefully. She moved around behind another one, getting a good look at the person hanging from the chains.

 

It was Tony Stark.

 

Her breath caught in her throat, but she maintained composure as a few of the men turned around to see who had come in. Upon seeing the girl, they sneered, turning back around. She ignored them.

 

Stark’s shirt hung open, exposing his reactor. She could see cuts and bruises littering his skin underneath. Chains wrapped completely around his forearms, suspending him from a rafter. He grinned savagely, despite having one eye completely swollen and dark hair matted to his head. Natasha ducked back behind another man, blocking his view of her. If Stark saw her, he gave no indication.

 

“You know, pal,” Tony said, his voice strained. “You’re not the first...group of people to try and get weapons out of me.”

 

Andreyev, who had been crouching on the floor, rose slowly. She couldn’t see his face, but she heard his amused chuckle.

 

“I dunno if you heard...what happened to the last guys,” Tony panted. To his credit, Natasha didn’t hear an ounce of fear in his voice. “Things didn’t pan...out so well.”

 

Natasha saw Andreyev draw his fist back, before slamming it into the side of Stark’s head. He let out a loud “ _unf!”_ and she thought she saw blood fly.

 

She tried not to let her fingers curl into fists. That idiot. She understood why he deliberately antagonized people, friends and foes alike. He was trying to stave off pain and fear, but also get Andreyev to make a mistake. She wasn’t so sure he would.

 

The man who had laughed earlier laughed again. _Dusek_ , her mind supplied. Sick sonofabitch.

 

Stark swung back on the chains, shaking his head. “I _told_ you!” he shouted. “You! Are! Doing! It! Wrong!” Natahsha could admire his tactics. For a civilian, he could be awfully manipulative. But also as a civilian, he shouldn’t be here. At all.

 

Andreyev wasn’t laughing anymore. He nodded to Dusek, who moved forward. Tony just gave a grin, blood bright red against his teeth, and running slowly down his chin over a darker red that had caked there hours earlier.. “Oh man, so...so predictable. Are you two friends from prison? Bunk up together and so forth?” His voice had been getting faster, trying to distract them. But Natasha knew Dusek. One of those kinds of men that took pleasure in others’ pain. He gripped Stark’s shoulder with both hands, pulling savagely.

 

Natasha couldn’t stop herself from flinching when Stark cried out, trying to pull back on his chains and failing miserably. Dusek let go of his arm, leaving its wait to pull on the chains that still suspended it. At this angle, it was clearly dislocated. He panted loudly, trying to gain his composure. “Now you’re...gettin’ it...” Natasha clenched her jaw so hard, it ached. She almost wanted to punch Stark for his stupid bravado, for making it worse for himself. Andreyev gave a grunt, before moving forward once more to punch Stark across the face again. He gave a small cry of pain, before he collapsed forward, unconscious.

 

Turning to Dusek, he said _“Let me know when he wakes up. The rest of you, with me.”_ As they filed out, Natasha stood her ground. _“What are you doing here?”_ Andreyev asked as he brushed by her.

 

_“Who is he?”_ Natasha asked instead. He shot her a glance over his shoulder before continuing on.

 

_“Our new bomb maker.”_ The other men didn’t look at her as they followed Andreyev. She took one last look at her teammate, the blood and bruises standing out harshly against his far too pale skin, before following.

 

_“He won’t be able to make anything if you beat him to hell,”_ Natasha pointed out.

 

_“It won’t be our problem for long. We’re selling him to Hydra tomorrow.”_

 

Natasha inwardly cursed. SHIELD had suspected Andreyev had connections to the organization but had been unable to prove it. If Hydra was filling his wallet, things just got a lot more serious than a black market weapons operation.

 

_“So unless you want to end up in the gutter, you should mind your own business and go back to what you were doing.”_ Andreyev stared her down with a piercing eye, and she pretended to look away.

 

_“Yes, sir.”_   He peered at her again, before moving back to the house with his cronies.

 

_“Prick,”_ she heard Skala mumble behind her. She found a cigarette in her hand a moment later. She let Skala light it for her, as they stood in silence. Natasha took a few drags, before dropping it to the ground and stomping it out.

 

_“I’m going to sleep,”_ she told Skala. The other woman just nodded, slinking back over to the barn entrance where the other two guards were waiting. Natasha moved back towards the house, ducking around the side, before making sure no one was watching. Seeing the coast was clear, she jogged into the woods.

 

About half a mile away, she had hidden a moped. It wasn’t the fastest way to get into town, but as long as she drove it on the road it was the quietest.

 

There was no way she could keep a cellphone on her here. She had to make all her calls to SHIELD from a payphone in town in the dead of night, and only very, very occasionally. She supposed this seemed like a good time to break cover.

 

30 minutes later, she was in a small town that only had a few stores and one petrol station. The petrol station had a payphone, eerily lit up by one of the few working street lamps in the whole town. It always made her feel conspicuous, but so far she had only encountered a few drunks here, stumbling home.

 

She dialed a long number, and then hit a nine digit passcode.

 

_“Bunting’s Gun Supply,”_ a thick, southern accent answered.

 

She rattled off another 14-digit number.

 

_“Agent Romanoff. You’re not scheduled to report for another week,”_ the Southern twang sounded concerned.

 

“Something’s come up. Andreyev has Stark.”

 

A pause, then a disbelieving _“Tony Stark?”_

 

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tony Stark. What happened? Why is he here?”

 

_“I’m...I’m not sure...”_ the voice trailed off, followed by mumbling and typing, before she heard the audible click of a microphone changing hands.

 

_“Agent Romanoff, report.”_ Maria Hill’s voice now, cool and direct.

 

“About an hour ago, Andreyev’s men brought Tony Stark to the farm. He’s alive, but currently captive. He’s also been beaten.”

 

A pause on the other end of the line. _“He’s been missing for four days.”_

 

“What?! You lost one of the most high-profile men in the world and hadn’t been able to trace him for four days?” Natasha was seething.

 

_“We didn’t lose him. His people did.”_ Even though she said it, Natasha could hear the faint traces of guilt in her voice.

 

“You ARE his people!” Natasha might have hit Hill in the face if she could see her. “I’m pulling him out.”

 

_“Romanov, we’ve worked too hard on this. YOU’VE worked too hard to be compromised. We can have a team out there in eight hours to extract him._ ”

 

“In eight hours, he’s going to be on a Hydra ship and long gone.”

 

_“HYDRA? You’re sure?”_

 

“Straight from Andreyev’s mouth. He’s got direct ties to them.”

 

There was another pause on the other end of the line, before Hill’s concerned voice spoke up again. _“If that’s the case...you need to maintain cover until we can find someone to replace you. We just uncovered HYDRA intel yesterday that they’re planning a massive bio-chemical weapons attack on New York. Natasha...I don’t need to tell you how important it is we maintain our connections.”_

 

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. “No.”

 

_“I can have Stark out of there in eight hours. In the meantime, maintain his safety as best you can, and when bullets start flying, protect yourself. You’ll be putting both your lives in more danger than they already are if you move.”_

 

Natasha heard the plastic receiver crack minutely as she squeezed it in her hand. “Understood.”

 

_“Be careful out there. Hill out.”_

 

She slammed the receiver back on the hook.

 

By the time she got back to the farm, it was almost 4 AM. She made her way back towards the house, glancing again in the direction of the barn as she did. She paused, looking around for people. She heard some laughter and talking from the house, but it seemed no one missed her.

 

She didn’t doubt the integrity of most SHIELD teams, but she wasn’t sure if they’d be fast enough. Worry began to gnaw at her slowly, and she hesitated. She put the mission first. She _always_ put the mission first, since she had joined SHIELD. She trusted SHIELD.

 

But she also trusted Stark. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but it had. Maybe it was when she saw the brutal honesty in a dying man’s eyes. Maybe it was when despite his seemingly selfish attitude, he had shown up in a heartbeat to deal with a global threat.

 

Maybe it was when he rode a goddamn nuclear missile into another dimension.

 

Damn him.

 

_No, damn them all,_ she thought, as she pictured a disappointed-looking Rogers, not understanding why she made the call she did. An empty chair at the kitchen table where Banner should be. Thor confused and angry at Midgardian war tactics. Clint’s understanding and pretending not to care.

 

She made her way towards the barn, her senses automatically flipping to high alert when she didn’t see any guards outside. Strange. They should have been guarding-

 

She heard a muffled cry, and automatically her feet quickened their pace. Fear rose like a fog around her mind, even as she tried to push it away. She rarely felt fear like this. She rarely felt fear _for_ anything. Her nose was immediately assaulted with the coppery smell of blood, more than there had been when she first came in here.

 

Only a single, bare light bulb was on, flickering gently, making the shadows in the barn harden then fade. Harsh wheezing assaulted her ears. They were the breaths of a man trying to hide his pain. Trying, not succeeding.

 

Her eyes took in everything in a second. Dusek, standing in front of Stark who was still hanging by his wrists (and a dislocated shoulder), brandishing a bloody pipe. Stark’s bloody and bruised torso shaking, his bare toes pushing feebly against the ground as his body struggled to curl in on itself.

 

Natasha didn’t think. She didn’t have time to think. She only found herself walking briskly forward, taking the knife off her thigh as she did so. Smoothly, from years of practice, she wrapped one hand firmly around Dusek’s forehead before bringing the knife up and slicing his throat neatly in one stroke.

 

Dusek made a gurgling sound, before falling in a clump to the ground, blood spurting from his neck over the yellow hay and his twitching body making soft rustling noises. He was dead before he could even come close to comprehending what was happening.

 

She breathed deeply, before realizing her mistake.

 

Too late now.

 

Cursing under her breath, she moved to Tony, who had his chin sunken uncharacteristically against his chest. She touched his chin and he flinched harshly, bringing another moan of pain to his lips. “Tony,” she said gently. “It’s me.”

 

He looked at her with the unswollen eye. “Thoug I sssawyou,” he slurred. “Didn thing you c...cared.”

 

And that, that hurt her more than she cared to admit. She didn’t meet his eyes, instead, focusing on trying to untangle his arms from the chains.

 

“Of course I care,” she said quietly.

 

He bit off a moan as she moved to his injured arm. “You...had...other res...pons...” she caught him as he sagged forward, unable to take any of his own weight. “m not...SHIELDs problem.”

 

She turned her head disbelievingly at him. He was forgiving her, forgiving her for not rescuing him immediately, because he thought her _bosses_ didn’t give two shits about him.

 

“Well, I think Fury would say you’re a problem,” she tried to joke, sitting him down on the ground. He grinned at her like an idiot, the dark red blood in his mouth contrasting highly with pearly-white teeth. “But you’re _our_ problem.” She gently took his injured arm. “This is gonna hurt.”

 

“Thanks, I’m aware.” he bit out, the blood flow back into his wrists making him more alert..

 

“Good.” She pulled savagely, pulling the limb back into place against muscles that had locked up from hours of disuse. Tony puffed air through his cheeks, only a few whines ripping from his throat, albeit softly. With one last tug, she felt the shoulder pop into place, ignoring the tremors of pain that shook it.

 

A rustle caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see one of the guys who had brought Stark in step around the edge of the wall. He froze for a moment, eyes taking in Dusek’s body and Natasha on the ground with a freed industrialist. _“Wha-”_

 

Natasha’s knife buried itself in his forehead before he could complete the word.

 

“Can you stand? We need to move.” Tony nodded shakily, trying to climb to his feet. Natasha had to pull him up most of the way, and her concern for both their safeties intensified with how much he was struggling. Almost all of his weight was on her. She hobbled over to the second dead man, pulling the knife out of his skull before wiping it on her pants and sheathing it. She leaned down again, pulling his gun from its shoulder holster and handing the pistol to Stark who took it with a shaking hand. “Just...hit what you can,” she said.

 

He nodded.

 

Together, they hobbled out into the greyness that marked the coming of dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t get very far before Natasha heard shouts coming from the direction of the main house. “Shit,” she mumbled, pulling Stark abruptly sideways towards the cover of the trees. He grunted and listed to the side before he stubbornly righted himself and she could feel him try to take some of his weight off of her.  
  
Grass and dirt erupted at her feet and half a second later she heard the bang that signaled a gunshot. She let go of Stark’s waist for a moment, fumbling for her own gun, but he was quicker. He leveled the arm with the pistol she had given him, squinting harshly, and fired two rounds back in the direction of the men. There was a scream and more shouting, but the gunshots had momentarily ceased.   
  
“Nice kneecap shot,” she praised wrapping her arm back around his waist.   
  
“Was aiming for his ‘ead,” he mumbled.   
  
“Don’t do headshots when you can’t see straight,” she admonished. “Go for the torso.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
There was another shot, the ground near their feet exploding again. She tried to quicken her pace. They were almost to the woods. She could hide better in the trees, but dragging an injured man along would mark their trail clearly...and with the sun coming up...  
  
Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.  
  
Stark fired behind them again, grunting as the kickback jostled his injured shoulder. “Not very good...shots, are they?” he grinned at her again.  
  
“No,” she said not meeting his eyes. “They want us alive. You’re their money. They probably just want to torture me before they kill me.”  
  
“Oh,” he said disappointedly. Natasha didn’t miss the way he quickened his step.   
  
They had just reached the tree cover when a blinding pain erupted in her arm. She cried out, unable to stop herself from falling sideways into Stark. The breath left both of them, and they groaned in pain as they hit the ground, leaves crunching under their weight. She quickly rolled off of him and bit her lip in pain as she examined her arm.  
  
“Romanoff?” he asked in alarm.  
  
“It’s fine,” she ground out. “It’s just in my arm. We have to..to keep going,” she urged as she recovered her breath. She started getting to her feet. The voices were closer, and she could hear the sounds of running feet.   
  
“It’s still in there,” Stark pointed out.  
  
“Move!” she shouted at him, pulling him up. He groaned, practically falling into her. He tried to not lean on her as heavily as they dashed forward, but she was having none of it. She pulled on his waist tighter.  
  
“S...Natasha, stop,” he groaned, but she ignored him. His eyes were glazed over with pain and concern, and she could not handle the latter right now. They had to get out of here alive.  
  
“Just keep them off our back,” she growled. He nodded, and she was glad to see all at once the features on his face change. There were still lines of pain, but there was also that fierce intensity that she had only seen a few times before. It was something she greatly admired about the man. For all his shortcomings, he knew when the mission came first.  
  
Maybe he was a soldier after all.  
  
She winced when she heard a dog howling. Shit. She had forgotten about Kadlec’s old as shit and mean as shit German Sheppard.   
  
Reading her mind, Stark bit out, “How many?”  
  
“Just the...one...” she murmured back as they stomped through the woods. Her vision was beginning to blur at the edges from pain and she ground her teeth together. She didn’t hear anyone in her immediate vicinity, but the howls were getting closer. She gave an involuntary tug around Stark’s waist, and his breath hitched as she jostled his ribs.   
  
An apology almost slipped past her lips before a savage growl sounded to her left.  She cursed, raising her arm, but a bristling mass of teeth, fur and claws was on her. She fell backwards as teeth sank into her forearm. She screamed as a mandible strong enough to snap bone did just that. She tried to roll over, tried to crush it’s head on the ground, but claws ripped at her clothes and she was scrambling for purchase.  
  
Suddenly, a blur passed over her and the dog yelped. The pressure on her arm eased, and she scrambled painfully back up to all fours. Stark was on his back, the dog on top of him. Its claws tore open the bruises and widened his non-healing wounds. He had the throat of the dog in his good hand, forcibly holding back the snapping jaws from his face. She brought her gun to bare, gasping as the kickback sent lighting shooting up her arm and all the way into her neck and down her spine. Stark collapsed, shoving the carcass off of him, spreading both the dog’s blood and his own over his body.   
  
Natasha, clutching her injured arm to her chest, stood up. She gave a small thanks it was the same arm with the bullet in it, so she still had a good limb. Using it, she hauled Stark to his feet. He didn’t even open his eyes. Whatever surge of adrenaline he had had was nearly depleted when he wrestled a dog off of her.  
  
“We...we have to keep going...she panted.   
  
He nodded shakily before giving her a small smile. “Knew you...weren’t an animal...person.”  
  
She actually rolled her eyes at him before giving him a light push.  
  
The voices were getting closer now, and they were getting slower. Stark bumped her arm and she swallowed a wave of nausea as pain lanced up her body once more. Fear began to cloud her thoughts. She pushed the doubt and fear away angrily. She needed a clear head. She needed to be focused if they were going to get out of this alive.   
  
She flinched again at the sound of a gunshot, pulling Stark behind a tree. He moaned unhappily, sagging against it. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to show themselves, bathing the treetops in an eerie yellow glow that was at odds with the grayness of the forest around them.  
  
It made the blood covering their bodies seem that much darker.  
  
What worried her most now was the shots fired randomly. It seemed that they didn’t care about keeping Stark alive anymore, which meant they didn’t care about getting paid, didn’t care about killing Hydra’s prize, didn’t care about their resulting wrath. They had offended Andreyev personally. Which meant they were dead.  
  
Maybe worse if he caught them before one of his cronies shot them.  
  
They reached the top of a hill and she hesitated. Stark didn’t even seem to see it, he just took a step forward and before she could utter so much as a “wait” they were tumbling down through the undergrowth.  
  
She landed hard on her injured arm and must have blacked out because the next thing she knew, Stark’s worried visage was in her vision.  
  
“-and sorry,” he was mumbling.  
  
“...what?” she uttered. The pain was making it hard to think. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and she could taste the coppery tang of blood. She dimly recalled biting it when she landed on her arm.  
  
“Gotta go,” he said tiredly, eyes scanning the forest around them. She came a little to her senses then, at the urgency in his voice. She started to sit up, gasping as she did so and somewhat surprised to find a supportive hand at her back. “Not aiming to s-” his breath hitched in pain. “-sell me anymore.”  
  
So, he had figured it out. She wouldn’t have expected anything less, despite his somewhat delirious state.  
  
“There’s an extraction point...West of here,” she hissed as she got to her feet. She held her injured arm close to her body, before pulling him up with her other arm. She studied him closely. From the pain lines in his face, to blood slowly running down his body. “You gonna make it?”  
  
He gave her a pain-filled grin. “Please,” he grunted. “These guys-”  
  
She flinched as a crack sounded through the air, and she stared dumbly as Tony collapsed in front of her. Just crumpled.  
  
It took another gun shot for her instincts to kick in, before she pulled her own gun, whirling around. Three men were coming out of the trees. She dropped one in the chest before her gun clicked empty and she threw it away angrily. She began to run towards one of the other men, when she felt pain blossom in her side and she staggered. She gasped, pulling her hand away from her stomach. The shiny, deep colored red of her own blood coated her finger tips.  
  
She looked up, surprised the men had stopped their firing only to have her heart skip a beat as Andreyev came out of the woods. There was a deadly calmness on his face.  
  
 _“You disappoint me,”_ he said.  
  
She swung her good arm back before aiming for his face, but he easily blocked it and hit her in the side instead with the heel of his hand.  She fell to her knees with a cry, and he shifted his block so that he was gripping her wrist so tightly she thought he might break it.  
  
 _“You cost me a lot of money, today. And men. Do not believe you will escape with death.”_ He leaned in close, showing his teeth, and she couldn’t stop herself from pulling back. She knew when the fight was over. She could feel the blood slowly leaving her body. She pushed down the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of Stark behind her, maybe dead. She had failed him. She had failed her mission to protect him, and then _she. Had. Failed. Him._   
  
Andreyev glanced behind her, hmm-ing thoughtfully. _“I hope he was worth it.”_  
  
She glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He grunted, before he jammed his finger into her bullet wound She cried out again, body tensing as pain rolled over it sharply. She collapsed to the ground, gritting her teeth.  
  
 _“This is just the beginning,”_ he hissed at her. _“You will suffer for this. You will pay. And when you are close to death, I will bring you back to start again. You will break, you will beg. You will plead to die. And only when I have determined your body physically can not take it anymore, I will grant you the reprieve of death. And it will be entirely up to me.”_ He pressed harder and the air was sucked out of her lungs. She kicked her legs out, trying to hit him in the knees. She was rewarded briefly with a grunt of pain, before a boot on her chest smashed her into the ground.  
  
She heard another gunshot and the pressure eased. She rolled over, curling in on herself. A coughing sounded from above her, and she looked up. Andreyev was standing there, staring dumbly at blood blossoming on his shirt. She looked behind her and her eyes widened. Tony was propped up on one elbow, gun in hand. “Aimed...aimed for the t-torso,” he whispered, giving her a weak smile. Andreyev coughed again and blood spilled out of his mouth. He had a disbeliving look on his face. Tony smirked at her before he sank to the ground.  
  
That seemed to snap his henchmen out of their stupor. One ran to Andreyev while the others aimed their guns at her and Stark.  
  
But they never got that far.  
  
An arrow blossomed out of one man’s chest, and she heard the whine of thrusters a second later. A silver and grey form dropped in front of her vision, shaking the ground, and she cringed as automatic weapons fire lit up the clearing and pounded against her ears. A ringing joined it, and she couldn’t help but feel the sense of relief wash over her as a red and white blur sliced through the air.  
  
Clint. Rhodes. Rogers.  
  
She might have called it overkill at any other point in time, but now she welcomed it.  
  
Clint was beside her in the next moment, easing her down and applying pressure to her side as he looked her over. He couldn’t hide the worry in his face. Not from her. “L...late...” she ground out.  
  
He gave her a grim smile. “Well, Hill thought we could get here faster than the other guys. We did our best.” The smile fell from his face. Somewhere in the distance she heard a scream followed by the sound of metal pounding against flesh. War Machine’s guns had stopped firing.  
  
She tried to look back at Stark. Rhodes had turned him over on his back, and now that the sun was up, Natasha could see the pool of blood around one of his legs. It was too large. Far too large.   
  
“Cap!” Rhodes shouted. His faceplate was up and she could see the alarm written plainly on his features. “He’s losing blood, they nicked an artery!” He turned back to Tony and she could see him squeeze the other man’s thigh. Tony didn’t respond in any way. “Hang on, buddy,” he mumbled. “You gotta hang on, okay Tony? Please, don’t do this to me again, Tony, please...”  
  
“No,” she whispered. “I’ve killed him,” unbidden, she could feel wetness at the corners of her eyes. She moaned. “O-one time I t-tried to do things...right...”  
  
“No, Nat, it’s okay, he’s gonna be okay,” Clint tried to soothe her. Her breath hitched again.  Clint looked angrily somewhere to his left. “CAP! Where’s that med team?”  
  
“They’re 10 minutes out!” Steve appeared in her field of vision, anxiously gazing down at her. When he saw Clint was taking care of her, he quickly moved on to Tony.   
  
“I’m taking him to them,” Rhodes said, his faceplate coming down again.  
  
“We can’t move him, he’s-”  
  
“He’s about two minutes from bleeding out, and I can barely feel a pulse. We’re going!” Natasha saw Rhodes gather the limp body of Stark up in his arms.  
  
“Wait, Rhodes, he’s not stable! You might miss the med-team if you fly him out!” Steve snapped angrily.  
  
“Dammit, what about her?!” Clint shouted at them. “She’s bleeding out too, in case you haven’t noticed!”  
  
Rhodes glanced at her, and she saw the hesitancy on his face, before he made up his mind. She couldn’t fault his logic. Stark was more important, had more injuries, had been missing for days. He needed the help more than she did. Clint must have also seen it because she saw the disbelieving look on his face. Steve just looked resigned, before stepping back and nodding at Rhodes.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Rhodes mumbled, before his thrusters fired and he flew upwards holding his best friend to his chest.  
  
“No, I am...” she whispered. Darkness was  encroaching in on her vision, and the pain first in her arm, then her side began to fade.  
  
“Nat? NAT! Stay awake Nat!” Clint’s frantic voice faded along with everything else.


	3. Chapter 3

She drifted in and out of consciousness, pain lingering on the edges of her awareness like a ghost.  The first time she was even partly aware of what was going on, she could only see the back of Clint’s head. She wasn’t sure if she was in a dark room, or her vision wasn’t working.

She found she didn’t care.

There were quiet beeps coming from somewhere to her left, but she could hear Clint’s muffled voice under it. He sounded far away.

“…don’t care. She shouldn’t have had to make that call.”

A heavy sigh from someone she couldn’t see. “He shouldn’t have been there at all.” Steve. “Someone knew he was going to be vulnerable. It was dumb luck she was there when she was.”

“Yeah…” Clint turned his head turned towards her. “…and they both paid the price…”

She found herself drifting off again.

The second time she awoke, she was more alert. Her instincts kicked in before her senses did, trying to gauge where she was. What had happened. Was she still in danger.  She fought her way through the fogginess, finally registering something about her surroundings; whatever she was lying on was _humming._

Not humming, exactly. Vibrating, she amended. Her mind instantly filled in the blanks. The helicarrier. She was on the helicarrier. Which meant some semblance of safety. 

Her eyes opened.

She blinked up at the grey, metal ceiling, wincing painfully as light filtered into her eyes. She struggled to remember what happened, to get her thoughts into motion.  She twisted, wincing again as a sharp pain pierced through her arm and, more alarmingly, her stomach. Slowly she lifted her arm to see a purple cast. She smiled slightly. Clint.

Had he been with her? She thought he might be. But someone else…

It was then she noticed the gauze over her upper arm and knew with absolutely certainty it was covering a bullet wound. She slowly reached down to her abdomen, gasping painfully as her fingers ran over stitches and brushed against the tender flesh underneath.

The memories came crashing down on her then, and she struggled to sit up, monitors blaring loudly around her. She angrily tore the wires from her chest. She had to know.

She had to know if Stark was still alive.  

Clint sprinted into the room followed closely by Rogers, both of whom were looking panicked.  Upon seeing her awake, Clint’s look changed to one of quiet resignation and Steve’s hard look of panic softened.

“Nat, hang on there,” Clint admonished. She angrily pushed him out of the way, cursing her weakness from what might have been days of inactivity. It was all too easy for him to push her back down.

“Clint, please,” she said, voice sore.  He sighed, letting her sit up and at least swing her legs over the bed. She inhaled sharply, leaning over and clutching her abdomen. The twinge of pain had turned into a sharp, insistent pain in her side.

“Natasha, you should lie down,” Steve said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“I’ve been asleep long enough,” she hissed. “I need to know…is…”

“Stark’s alive,” Steve said calmly. She breathed a sigh of relief, leaning into Clint slightly.  “He’s not awake yet, though. He lost a lot of blood, and there was some internal bleeding from his earlier injuries. He… it was rough,” Steve finished quietly. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, sighing with frustration.

“I want to see him.”  Clint didn’t argue, just helped her up. In the hallway, other agents made room, wishing her well, not making eye contact with either of them.

Clint led her into another room where more machines were beeping quietly. Rhodes sat on a chair next to a bed, giving them a slight nod as they came in. In the bed was Tony Stark.

He was deathly pale, bruising covering almost the entire part of his body that she could see. New blue and purple bruises covered faded yellow ones. A nasal cannula wrapped around his head, and an IV stuck out of his arm. His other arm was in a sling. It seemed unnecessary at this point given the unnatural stillness of the man in front of her.  It was all invasive, and wrong.

“I did this,” she whispered. Clint led her over to another chair, helping her sink slowly into it.

“No, Andreyev did this,” Steve tried to assure her. The Super Soldier had followed them into the room.

“You don’t understand,” she shook her head. “I was…compromised.” Clint stiffened slightly, but she continued. “They were beating him and I just snapped. I lost it. And…then we had to run.”

“You did the right thing,” Steve said coming over and putting his hand on her shoulder. “He would have died or have been handed over to Hydra.”

She shook her head. Rhodes was watching her intently, but remained silent. She found she couldn’t look him in the eye. “If I had just…you all would have been there…”

Clint shook his head adamantly. “No. It was only luck we were as close as we were. And Rhodes was available. You couldn’t know it wouldn’t take eight hours like Hill said.”

“Hill contacted me immediately,” Steve said. “We got pulled off the mission we were on. She contacted Rhodes too, who met up with us.” Steve looked over at the colonel when he said that, who looked away angrily.

“As soon as he’s better, he’s gone,” Rhodes growled.

“Excuse me? I don’t think that’s your call to make,” Steve said, eyes narrowing.

“No, it is.” Rhodes stood up. “I’ve watched time and time again as Tony’s been missing. Or dying. While SHIELD stands by.”

“Rhodes-”

“No, you listen to me now, _Captain._ Where was SHIELD when Tony went missing in Afghanistan for three months? Or when he was dying of palladium in his chest? Or when…oh, wait.” He raised his finger to his lips thoughtfully. “How about when SHIELD launched their nukes at Manhattan and then _demanded_ Tony take care of it? Is that the kind of operation you’re running here?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Steve growled.

“And now, while on a mission for you, he goes missing for four days? Only to be shot to death in the woods?” Natasha looked at the floor at Rhodes’ words. After a moment, he continued.  “This is insane.  And he’s done with it. And don’t you _dare_ say that’s not my call, because I think by now you all know the man looks after himself about as well as a dog in a chocolate factory.”

“Stark is an adult. He’s perfectly capable of making his own decisions. And you don’t know the workings behind SHIELD. What we’ve given to protect you!” Clint was on his feet now too, angrily staring down the other man.

“You’re right! I don’t know how it works! Which is what worries me. You stick people like _her_ ,” he pointed at Natasha, and she didn’t flinch. “into his office to spy on him-”

“-she SAVED you both-”

“-because he’s an ASSET. That’s all he is to you people! And I’m done watching you screw him over!” Rhodes angrily pushed past them all, not looking back.

No one moved.  The only sound in the room for a long time were the steady, soft beeps of the monitors on Tony’s body. Finally, Steve turned to both of them.

“Stark won’t leave. It’s…he’s…” but as Steve struggled to find the right words, it seemed more and more like he was trying to convince himself.

Natasha turned her head away. If she were him, and she could go someplace else, she wouldn’t stay here.

~AV~

Later that night Clint finally became busy with something else so he didn’t have the opportunity to check on her every 5 minutes. She got up, and went to Stark’s room. Rhodes was there.

She stood in the doorway a moment, hesitating. She was just about to turn away, when he sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry.”

Out of all the things she had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Natasha. You saved him. You saved me before. I let my temper get away with me. So, I’m sorry.”

She turned around to face him. “No, you were right. He’s an asset. We only step in when the assets are in danger.”

“Maybe, once. Things have changed, though. He trusts you all. I’ve seen it.” He smiled, rubbing his chin. “I may not trust your boss. But I trust you. You’re not evil, Natasha. You’re not stupid, either. You were looking out for a teammate, a friend. And boy, can I understand _that_.”

Suddenly, gratitude threatened to break over her like a wave. She inhaled deeply. “Rhodes-”

“Please. Rhodey’s fine.” He gave her a small smile.

There was a quiet breath, but it didn’t come from either of them. “…softy.”

Their attention shifted rapidly to the bed where Tony was grinning at them. “…hey,” he breathed.

“Tony, you goddamn idiot,” Rhodes said softly, taking his friend’s hand gently in his own.

“Missed you too…honeybear,” Rhodes chuckled quietly at the nickname from Tony. 

“You know for a genius, you’re a huge idiot.”

Natasha smiled, and turned to leave.

~AV~

Tony found her two days later on one of the observation decks of the helicarrier. The medical staff hadn’t let either of them leave, despite her insistence she was at least well-enough to make it to the tower. But two gunshot wounds, one of which had been in the abdomen and required surgery to repair had them denying all her requests.

Tony had regained some of his color since he woke up, but was still pretty unsteady on his feet. That coupled with the use of only one arm led her to believe he wouldn’t be moving anywhere for a few days.

So she was surprised when he hobbled in stiffly, clad in MIT sweats and wincing in pain.

“I don’t think you should be up here,” she told him, eyeing his injuries.

“You going to report me?”

She smiled, turning her head to look back outside. “No.” The clouds drifted by in purples, reds and oranges as the sun set somewhere to their left.

He moved over to where she was sitting, letting out a minute whine of pain as he sank to the floor next to her. She swallowed guiltily.

“It was my own fault, you know.  I got cocky. I was just going to a SHIELD meeting, I didn’t take some of the precautions I normally would.” She glanced at him, but he was staring at the clouds and smiling faintly. “They gassed me first. Landed on the roof and before I could move, punched the moon roof right in. I tried to get out, but the doors were locked. I was…I hadn’t even been paying attention to the driver.” He shrugged. “It was my own fault. I figured I didn’t need security to go to the meeting, and I didn’t fly because the suit was under repair.”

She stared at him, surprised. “That wasn’t your fault. That sounds like your textbook version of a mole. Stark, someone sold you out. Did you find out-”

“-I tried.” He shook his head. “But this is an organization of spies. Whoever it was is too good. I don’t have any expertise in this sort of thing. I can hack any computer in the world, but I can’t hack someone’s mind.” He looked at her then, and suddenly she realized what he wanted.

He was asking for help.

“I’ll look into it,” she assured him.

He nodded at her, getting up to leave and hissing again. “You know…you don’t owe me anything. I probably actually owe you…cause…” he scratched his head. She was somewhat surprised he was at a loss as to what to say next. She almost never saw Tony Stark at a loss for words. Even when he was hanging from chains and being beaten to within an inch of his life. “Well, you know, you saved me.” The corner of his mouth angled upwards and his eyes darted away. “And, you know, Pepper and Rhodey and Steve say I sort of have to work on my people skills, so I’m just trying to-”

She held up her hand and gave a small huff of amusement. “It’s fine. I’m just…” she pursed her lips, trying to decide what to say. She hadn’t really been expecting thanks, not from anyone. First Rhodey and now him. It was clear he was as uncomfortable as she was, from the way his eyes kept darting around the room, and the fingers on his bad arm drummed against his arc reactor nervously. “…I’m glad you’re okay.” She gave him a small smile. A sincere one.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, eyes meeting hers again. Then a little louder; “Yeah. Me too.”

~AV~

With Clint’s help, Natasha threw herself into going over every security tape on the helicarrier from the day of Tony’s capture.

Finally, she found something.

“This guy, here,” she said to Clint, pointing to a man on the screen. “James Vito. He went to the communications department an hour before the attack.  But during the attack, he was on the bridge, here,” she pointed to a different screen, where the man looked as surprised as anyone as Hill began rapidly barking out orders. “He worked for about an hour, before he went to the galley. Then he went back to work for three hours. After that, only then did he return to the communications department.”

“Okay, so, how is that unusual?” Clint asked.

She pulled up the communications logs.

“This log says he was working on the Hitchens case?” She pointed. “Carrey, who’s lead on the Hitchens case didn’t report any work on it for the first eight hours of the Stark case. Which means Vito went behind his back. But Vito has no recorded instances of dissent or any sort of mar on his record. Why now? He wasn’t being productive, because everyone else was being productive on the Stark case.”

Clint grinned at her. “Why don’t you ask him?”

She grinned back. “You know, I think I will.”

~AV~

She waited until James Vito was alone in his bunk. She gave him credit. She had been watching him all day, but he didn’t seem nervous or jumpy now that Stark was awake. They would have been dead giveaways. No, the only time he seemed nervous was when she dropped out of the vent in his ceiling in front of him. He jerked back on his bed, before he regained his composure. Far too quickly. An innocent man who knew who she was might have pissed at the sight of her.

“Agent Romanoff,” he said calmly. “Can I…uh…help you?”

“Yes,” she said icily. “Why’d you sell out Stark?”

“I…what?” he gave her a disbelieving look. She snapped forward, hands wrapping around his throat as she pushed him down onto the bed.  She leapt onto him, her knee in his sternum.

“I should kill you,” she hissed. “But I want to know. What did they give you? What was the reward for signing the death warrant of the man who saved the planet?”

His eyes, which had been wide, suddenly narrowed. His voice was a gurgle as it slipped through the windpipe she was currently crushing. “You…would never…understand…”

She felt his arm shift, and she rolled to the side. A sharp pain from the bullet wound ripped through her abdomen, but she welcomed it. The alternative was the combat knife he had slashed at her.

She ripped her own knife from the sheathe at the small of her back, and threw it at his forehead. It hit its mark, and Vito sank to the ground, dead.

She told Fury later it was self-defense. He thanked her, and it was never spoken of again.

~AV~

“I guess I’ll always be a target, huh?” It was a week later, and Tony and Natasha had been permitted to return to the tower. They were sitting in the kitchen, the other Avengers remarkably absent for once.

She shrugged. “Unfortunately, you get used to it. But you’re generally pretty good about looking out for yourself.”

“Well, when I’m not I have you freaks all looking out for me, right?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was actually looking out the window.

She took a deep breath. “Did…Rhodey mean what he said? Are you thinking about leaving?”

He sighed, looking back at her. “Rhodey’s…well, he worries. But…I dunno, I kinda like you guys. Besides, if I wasn’t here, where would Bruce live? Who’d keep the big guy in check. No,” he stood up, pushing his chair under the table and grinning at her. “If I left, you’d have a whole slew of problems you haven’t even thought about yet.”

As she watched him make his way to his lab, she didn’t really have to wonder at all he hadn’t said with his flippant statement. It seemed Tony Stark wasn’t at all intent on leaving.

For that she was eternally grateful.

 


End file.
